


Love Me In A Special Way

by loveoverpride



Category: Scandal (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-23
Updated: 2018-08-30
Packaged: 2018-10-22 19:31:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 13,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10703628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loveoverpride/pseuds/loveoverpride
Summary: A collection of standalone prompts, drabbles, and one-shots. Olitz AU.





	1. Chapter 1

The shooting pain was unbearable, throbbing with every attempted gesture. It hurt to lay still, but moving about would make everything just as bad. Another bout of issues with her sciatic nerve, random this time around. Olivia was ready to scream into the darkness. It took five minutes to turn on her side, to find her cell phone.

The screen was bright - _3:52am_ \- already straining her tear-filled eyes. Being awoken in the middle of the night wasn't the problem. When work called, she'd be out of bed in seconds. This pain was unfathomable. Unless she went to the emergency room, Olivia would have to find a way to ride this one out.

"Fiiiiitttzz...Fitzgerald."

Olivia's eyes moved towards the long silhouette next to her. The moon highlighted his sleeping frame. Calling his name once more, she got the man's attention. Softly grunting, he answered, "Hmm?"

"Help me."

She hoped the plea would bring him to life. It took a lot to break Fitz from his slumber. As her thoughts wandered towards a distraction, Olivia felt a kiss on her temple. 

"What can I do," he asked in a soothing tone.

"It's my back again."

Fitz whispered, "I'm sorry, honey. Do you want me to hold you?"

"Maybe?"

Olivia winced as soon as her boyfriend pulled her close. He immediately apologized, massaging her bare arms, peppering soft kisses on her face. "Sweet baby."

"I don't know why this keeps happening. I thought yoga would help."

Fitz traced his finger along Olivia's nose, cheek, and jaw. "Do you want to go to the doctor? We can get there in fifteen minutes."

"I'll be screaming the entire time, Fitz," Olivia groaned. Frustration was building with each renewed pulse of discomfort. 

Fitz nodded, pulling the covers off his body.

"Where are you going?"

When he didn't answer and left the bedroom, Olivia felt her lip quiver. Crying wouldn't help, but her resolve was slipping away. Even though Fitz wasn't able to physically adjust the pinched nerve, he was her rock. Just a presence to lean on during this vulnerable moment. She was a strong one, but when she was literally down and out, Olivia wanted someone who could be just as reliable. 

Footsteps treading the stairs relieved her worry. Olivia watched Fitz come towards her side of the bed. 

"Liv, can you try to sit up?"

The willingness to complete this simple action was there, but Olivia knew her body would resist. More pain ran through her lower half, forcing her to cry out with each push to lift. 

"Here," he offered a small glass. "Drink this. You'll feel better."

Olivia received the drink, took a whiff, and rolled her eyes. "It's scotch, you moron," she croaked. 

"So?"

"You think this is a cure-all? No pills?"

Fitz snickered, "Maybe. It always knocks the edge off when I'm in pain. And you hate taking pain meds."

Olivia shook her head in amusement. Fitz could always make her laugh or briefly forget about something. 

"Trust me on this one."

Sighing, Olivia relented and took the shot. Another wince, but only because of the liquor's strength going to her lungs. That was his drink of choice; a sexy glass of red was her preference. 

FItz leaned in to kiss her, relishing in the smoky flavor on her lips. Sitting gingerly on the bed, to avoid any sudden moves and consequent pain for Olivia, he asked, "Do you think you could lie on your side? I also brought an ice pack."

With his help, Olivia shifted her weight, teeth gritted.

"Or I can give you a massage, if you'd prefer that," he offered.

Olivia pondered; which option would bring immediate relief, so that she could wake up and get to work. 

"Massage and then ice."

"Okay, sweet baby," he answered, lifting her tee shirt a bit. "I'm going to lower your shorts too, so I can really push out these aches."

Olivia teased, "I bet you like that." With his thumbs adding pressure to her warm flesh, she moaned. 

Pleased with the response, Fitz continued his work. "Yeah, but this is for your benefit. Not mine."


	2. In Vermont

The fresh air, the blue skies, the trees that covered her from the beaming sun, were the tell-tale signs that she arrived. Everything was becoming familiar again. Four years had passed since she walked these grounds. The daylight was a pleasant contrast from the dark skies and dusk from her last visit. When she was hiding, being summoned by him so they could "talk".

Sliding the door open, she found him on the couch. Comfortably rocking a flannel shirt and jeans, and barefoot. He was looking down as his fingers moved deftly on the firm strings of the guitar. After the photo op during the Election, she rarely saw him play. But it was her favorite thing to watch. He was in his own world, in tune with whatever song he had on his mind or in his heart.

She set her bags down and took a deep breath. His head shot up. Their eyes met. They didn't have to speak. Spending so much time on the road, in private, among crowds, they learned to communicate without talking. In the slightest touches, eye rolls, and knowing smiles.

"Hi."

"You made it," he said, with such appreciation. The eyes that made her lose her breath in the hallway, were looking right at her. Giving so much.

"I told you I would."

The guitar was moved to the side before he stood. She knew he'd be there in two seconds flat, ready to lift her off the ground, and greet her with plenty of kisses. But he didn't.

"Was the drive okay?"

"It was fine," she replied, taking a cautious step forward. "It's beautiful here."

He nodded. It felt like an eternity since they held each other close. But they were playing it safe. There didn't seem like that was anything left to give, emotionally.

"It's quiet."

"I know," he stated, "Isn't that great? That's the best part. We can think without anyone getting into our heads."

They were on edge, physically. Work and life had overwhelmed them. Too much was done to separate them. Some days, they were able to manage the distance. No one rooted for them; with their convoluted past, how could anyone do so? After all was said and done, as the smoke cleared from their obligations, they agreed to meet here.

"How long have you been here?"

His lips curled into a smile. "A month. Haven't left the property since Inauguration Day."

"I see."

She walked to the kitchen. It was beautiful - all of this space to cook and entertain. Then her eyes moved back to the living room. The high ceilings, the fireplace. It was a lot but still had a cozy feel.

"What do you think?"

Returning to where he was standing, then turning around in a circle to observe, she replied plainly, "It looks different. You moved the piano."

"Yeah. I had them rearrange things. To whatever you liked. I remember what you said."

She must have mentioned it when they spent the night on the floor. After their argument, everything melted away when they kissed. Not even wanting to head upstairs, they shared their love over and over, in the living room. By the fire that he started. Almost blushing at the thought of how they reconnected, she stammered, "You didn't have to."

"I want you to be happy," he softly interjected. "Remember. This is your house too. You told me not to sell it. I didn't. Because..I still had hope."

She forgot. This was all for her. He'd move mountains if she wanted. And he did. He sacrificed everything for her - time and again. Too much, in her opinion.

The knot in her stomach was tightening and her throat was closing. It didn't matter - he always found a way to make her realize that she deserved happiness.

Her eyes were brimming with tears.

"Hey."

With three long steps, he came to her, gently bringing her in. She gasped as he embraced her. Allowing her to breathe. Somehow, she was able to do that. Fall apart while knowing that he could still comfort her. But understanding that she needed a minute.

His lips brushing her wet cheeks. Hands rubbing her back . As she stilled, he whispered, "Come sit with me, Liv."

Opting for the love seat across from him, she listened. Watching him strum. He was so calm, repeating her beloved Stevie lyrics. Making her smile when he attempted to hit the high notes, since his voice was a smooth baritone.

She could tell that she was open to receive his love again. For real.

As he lowly sang to her, she rose, only to sit down next to him. Using his shoulder to rest her head. He sighed and continued to play. Without pain or guilt blocking her vision, she was able to tell him. _Yes_ and _I love you_. She was now at peace. In a place where she was loved. This was the beginning.


	3. The Time Has Come

Her eyes snapped open.

It wasn't a loud event, like everyone was telling her it would be. Just a little "pop", like stepping on a plastic bubble, or bursting a pimple that you know you aren't supposed to do. Nature had been taking its course over the last two weeks and she hadn't told anyone just yet, but now it was becoming a big deal to her.

"Hey, Fitz?"

"Yeah?"

"Can you come here, please?"

Olivia was impatient. Her water was breaking. She thought it'd be an one-and-done thing, but it seemed as if the fluid would never stop. When Fitz hurried into the bedroom, the area on the bed surrounding her was drenched. Maybe it was the combination of excitement, fear, and embarrassment on her face that alerted her husband.

"Is that what I think it is?"

Olivia slowly nodded. "Yes, Fitz."

"Okay. I think this is it."

"Help me."

Olivia breathed deeply as Fitz assisted her to stand. She didn't feel comfortable at all. The baby was pushing in all the wrong places and now she was a little sticky. Fitz began to massage her shoulders. If she wasn't so out of it, she'd think he was trying to turn her on. His fingers digging into her skin with the right pressure, moving from the top towards her back, which felt glorious. Her legs were starting to shake and her lips trembled. This was it.

"What do you need me to do?"

She groaned. "Mmm, I don't know."

Fitz whispered, "Want to take a shower?"

"Okay. That sounds good."

After a little pat on her butt, Fitz left. Olivia pulled her hair back into a high bun. Looking at herself in the mirror, she laughed. It would be the last time she'd be in their room, with her daughter inside of her. A small kick thumped against her rubbing hands. Little Miss knew it was time as well. Gingerly stepping out of her wet clothes, she walked to the bathroom.

Kneeling down, Fitz was drawing the water, putting his hand into the spray every five seconds to check the temperature. She smiled when he turned back to report.

"It's just how you like it."

Olivia patted his hand, while covering her breasts, and with his help, stepped into the shower. The warmth soothed her. It was just right, covering her whole body - including the expanse of her abdomen. The water always relaxed her, it was her time away to zone out and focus. Thankfully, the heavy duty contractions had not arrived, so she could move a little bit and relax without yelling in pain.

"Come in."

Fitz was leaning against the sink, so the suggestion made him ask quizzically. "What?"

"Get in here. It will be the last time we can have a true quiet moment before she arrives."

Olivia smirked, knowing Fitz wouldn't resist. Her core began to swell as he stripped down. Smiling as he joined her, Olivia made room for him. Fitz stuck his neck out and poked his lips, as a gesture that she got her way - again.

Kissing his puckered lips, she approved. "Atta boy."

"Hmm."

The two stood in silence for a minute, allowing the water to overtake them. Olivia reached over for her soap, lathering. Every movement was becoming a hassle.

"Can you…" Olivia asked with a frown.

Fitz took a washcloth. "Shh. I got you."

Olivia trained her eyes at the ceiling while Fitz cleaned her. It was frustrating to not always have the freedom to do whatever she wanted. Everything was cool the day before and now… she didn't have the willpower to clean herself off.

"No, baby. There's nothing to be ashamed of," he gently consoled. "You are doing so well, being extremely brave, carrying our child. I will do whatever I need to do to make you feel as comfortable."

Ruffling his hair, Olivia thanked Fitz. They kissed for a little bit.

"Tease me," she asked.

Fitz obliged, pressing sweet kisses all over her skin and sucking on her nipples. After reading all the do's and don't's, Olivia was very careful. But she wanted to be relaxed as well, so she guided her husband into what he could do to get her there. With the water cascading on her, Fitz lightly massaged her folds and rubbed her clit.

"Ooh," she giggled. "Just a little bit more and I'll be fine."

Easily with his fingers just rubbing on her, she orgasmed, becoming putty in his hands. It was burst of oxytocin that made her smile. "Okay," she said, turning off the water, "Let's do this."

"Really?" Fitz's eyebrows were very high. She knew he couldn't tell what she meant by that.

"I want to rest for a little bit and then if she rumbles more, we'll go to the hospital."

Olivia moved as quickly as she could, finding a pair of yoga pants, boy shorts, sports bra, and tank. Fitz cleaned the floor and sheets, as well as changed the bedspread, surprising her completely.

"Honey..."

Fitz bowed. "I learn from the best."

"Come lay with me."

Getting cozy in bed, Fitz lifted her shirt, revealing her belly. The dark markings that came with pregnancy, were prime kissing territory for him. It was their favorite time to rest and reconnect. Fitz used some of Olivia's favorite body cream, placing more kisses where his baby was residing. Feeling her move and kick as he took care of his beautiful, elegant wife, nearly made him cry.

"Oh, Livvie,"

"Mmhmm," she asked lazily, raking her fingers through his thick curls.

"I already love her."

* * *

Two hours later, the Grants were at Sibley, settled in their room for the day. Olivia was already five centimeters dilated, so progress was made, but she still had a little ways to go. She wanted to take the natural route, so she had all sorts of ideas and plans to keep that in motion. Fitz brought his iPad to play all of her favorite love songs and workout jams. Rotating her hips to keep herself loose and distract the pain, Olivia moved around the hospital room. Fitz would beam, watching her "shake her tail feather," or drop it low.

"That's my sweet baby right there," he'd tell one of the nurses. "Isn't she gorgeous?"

Olivia would occasionally lift her middle finger, but for the most part, kept a sly smile on her face.

"Fuccckkkk," she screamed when the contractions started. Fitz rushed to her side, but quite hesitant, for he did not know if she needed him like she said she would.

"Hold you or no?"

A quick nod in agreement gave him permission to bring her close. His left hand brought to the tail of her spine, while the other around her shoulder. They rocked back and forth, back and forth. Their synchronization was perfect. If she dug in her nails into his back, he would know what to do next.

"You got this. You're a champ."

"No," she complained, refusing to believe that she had what it took to make this happen. No believed she could get here. She didn't even think she would be in the position. So for this moment to finally arrive, was astonishing.

Fitz kissed her forehead and continued to sway with her. "Yes, you are. No one is more deserving to become a mother than you."

Olivia began to cry. She was so close, but the finish line wasn't not in her vision.

Another three hours passed. More tears and cursing, with slow dances and separation. Fitz had to leave the room because the sight of him made Olivia furious. But now, she was in bed - elevated - with her feet in the stirrups. No epidural, but the pain was excruciating.

"Fitz," she bellowed.

"I'm right here, Sweet Baby," he pressed a kiss on her dewy forehead.

No one else was in the room except for the medical staff. Their immediate families weren't notified. Olivia knew as soon as they were expecting that she wanted a peaceful space for her to welcome new life. No arguing. No drama. Just them.

"Mrs. Grant," the doctor announced, "We're ready. It's time."

Olivia's eyes widened. Not wanting to freak out, but still on edge, she called for him.

"I'm not leaving you, pumpkin."

"Okay, your daughter is almost here. You'll need to push. We discussed this. But only push when we tell you.

Grimacing, she nodded. Fitz almost laughed by the intensity Olivia was giving, which resulted in a firm smack on his chest.

Olivia pushed five times. On the third - a mousy brown crown of hair appeared. It was when she pushed the hardest and screamed the loudest, holding on Fitz's arm for dear life, that their beautiful girl made her debut. Tears poured as the baby was brought to her chest. She had a hearty set of lungs, releasing a blood-curdling greeting. Fitz was asked to cut the umbilical cord, and with pride, he did.

"I can't believe it. She's here." Olivia kissed the baby's head, amazed that something that was a figment of her imagination, was actually with her. Her daughter.

"Good morning, beautiful. Welcome."

"You are the best," Fitz kissed Olivia.

The nurse interrupted them to clean the baby. So as they watched the team measure, clean, and swaddle her, Olivia and Fitz cried, whispering phrases that only they could decipher.

"Here she is."

Olivia burst into tears. "Oh my… My baby. I love you. She has your nose, Fitzy."

"Oh no, she's all you. Look at those pouty lips and doe eyes," Fitz rebutted. He brushed the side of his finger against her cheek. "Our baby."

"Does she have a name?"

Olivia leaned down to smell her daughter. Brand new. All hers. Flesh against her flesh. Their hearts were now beating as one. She didn't realize how she could fall in love with someone so quickly, without saying a word. Not understanding how her heart could break and be full simultaneously. But it was possible. With a smile that was unique to anything, she announced the child's name.

"Addison Claire."

* * *

"Addiclaire…"

Olivia opened her eyes. Now, instead of waking in panic, she could breathe easier. Fitz was sitting down in one those plastic chairs, cradling the baby. Already, he made a nickname for their brunette beauty. His soft baritone repeating the new phrase - it was music to her ears. Watching him respond to this new creation brought her to tears. He was perfect for this. He was meant to be in this role.

With the intriguing shade of chestnut brown eyes and with a pink-tan complexion, Addison Claire Grant was stunning. A perfect blend of physical attributes from Fitz and herself. Olivia could already see Addison's personality showing. The apple of their eyes. Heaven and Earth would be moved just for this child.

"It's me, your Daddy. Hi. Hi."

"Fitz," she whispered, extending her hand. Their eyes met, full of gratefulness and love.

"Don't cry, baby. It's okay."

"I'm so overwhelmed. This was nothing like I imagined."

Fitz stood up, took one long step to Olivia, and giving Addison to her. Once again, when Addison looked up, Olivia's breathing hitched.

"This is everything I could have hoped for."


	4. Tuesday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Taken from the prompt, "I'm making your favorite."

Tuesday was his least favorite day. It was the longest. Always up before the sun rose and finally leaving his office around 6pm. By his request, Charlotte always packed his schedule, so that he could ease into the rest of the week, if anything came up. Moving from room to room, getting briefed from his staff, making phone calls, receiving folders of various colors. There was never a dull moment. But this was his life. He chose this life and he was going to do his best to serve his country. 

He was counting down the seconds for when he would make it to his room. Giving his staff the go-ahead to depart, he left his office. The residence, ideally the physical disconnect from the real world, was where he could shut off for a few hours. And be himself.

Nodding at one of the agents, he closed the double doors. Toeing his shoes off, Fitz groaned. His feet hurt. Because of recent events, he wasn't sleeping well. His back was giving him trouble. The residual throbbing from his head injury would come upon him whenever he didn’t wear his reading glasses and did too much. In other words, his body was wearing down. 

Leaning against the door and letting out a deep sigh. Of course, he barely ate, which attributed to his headache.  Fitz headed to the mini kitchen, a godsend, so he wouldn't have to take the elevator back down. Opening the refrigerator, he surveyed the contents. A simple meal would have to do - maybe a roast beef sandwich with his favorite fixings. 

“Hi.”

The breathy greeting shocked him. Fitz spun around, the refrigerator door slamming in his wake, looking for the voice’s owner.

“Hi. What are you doing here?”

Fitz watched the woman in front of him, hovering over two bowls and a frying pan. Dressed in a v-neck and jeans, she had her back turned.  But still, he knew. How he wasn't aware that she had snuck her way to the residence, was beyond him. 

“It’s Tuesday.”

Very confused while walking to her, he asked again, “What are you doing?”

“It’s dinnertime," she replied plainly. "Have you eaten yet?”

“No, but you...”

Olivia shot him  _that look_ \- pursed lips and a raised eyebrow. “Alright then. Problem solved."

"Smells good."

With a nod, she thanked him. "I’m making your favorite. Steak with mashed potatoes and the greens you always rave about.”

“Liv.”

"No."

"The staff would have made something."

He snapped his mouth shut as Olivia turned to him, with a lifted finger. “Shh! Let me do this. Go get freshened up so you can eat.”

Fitz knew better than to argue with this one. Shaking his head, he left and did as he was told. Making a pit stop to the closet - grabbing boxers, a pair of jeans, and one of his Navy shirts - he migrated to the bathroom. The light was on. When he walked in, the bath was drawn, one of her therapeutic candles burning, and a novel was open.

“Liv!”

“Just enjoy yourself,” she called from across the hall.  “Please.”

She knew best, always observant of his well-being. Fitz knew Olivia couldn't resist helping. Even with the long hours away from each other, she would always surprise him, taking care of his needs.

Disrobing,  he sighed after each layer fell away. It felt good to not have to be on the spot, being waited upon. Having a few minutes to himself. 

“Need help taking off your clothes?”

Fitz rolled his eyes. “Nope.”

As soon as he lowered himself into the warm water, he sighed again. Olivia must have used the soap with eucalyptus and other natural elements that their friend suggested to ease his muscles.  He let his mind wander, not even touching the book. He would wait until bedtime to read.  It felt amazing. 

Twenty minutes later, Fitz returned in his go-to outfit, but didn't bother to style his hair, so some of his errant curls were somewhat dangling on his forehead. 

“Perfect timing,” Olivia smiled.

Fitz strutted to Olivia, kissing her softly.  "Hi," he spoke against her lips.

"You smell good, buddy."

"Thank you," he answered. "My girlfriend went above and beyond for me." 

Olivia rubbed his back, looking up into his eyes. "Well, she tries her best when she can. Now, come sit. You must be starving."


	5. Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prompt - "Can I hold your hand?"

Row L, seat 4.

The aisle was better for her. It had always had been.

Five minutes until takeoff.  

Guests talking with each other, shoving bags under the seat in front of them, turning off their electronics. Seeing the flight attendants walk to each row, fulfilling their pre-flight obligations.

But she wasn’t talking or was excited to be here. Eyes fixed on the screen directly ahead. Tapping her foot frantically. Arms crossed, but only momentarily. She unfolded them to rummage through her purse, in search of relief, in the form of Dramamine. The pill was inserted quickly, then slowly dissolved on her tongue, making the wait more stressful. A swig of water to clear the taste. But she couldn’t drink too much, because she did not want to get up and use the lavatory.

Her mind was racing towards the upcoming minutes of the airplane making turns on the runway, accelerating, and eventually ascending.

The anticipation was dreadful.

Flights hadn’t always been a problem. Sometimes she’d get antsy when the plane would land, but takeoff? Her least favorite part. Flying solo wasn't helping either. 

More importantly, it was the trip that was putting her over the edge. It had been six months since she bought a ticket and skipped town, neglecting the changes that were ultimately going to be part of her new normal. She had to come back eventually. Returning home was usually a good thing. Not this time. Nothing was going right and she needed something to change. 

“Takeoffs are always the most fun part.”

Slowly, her eyes shifted to the passenger to her left. A man, probably 10 years her senior, probably enjoying his comment a little too much. She didn't even notice his presence until that moment. 

“Hmm,” she curtly responded. “Negative.”

The man lowly chuckled, amused by her sharp tone. “I see.”

He probably meant well, trying to dissipate the obvious tension in her face and throughout her body. Usually when she was very nervous, she’d walk back and forth, and if it was really bad, she'd pace in a circle. But to her dismay, she wasn't in the best position or situation to move around. Cursing herself for not inviting anyone to joining her. She was out of her comfort zone. Alone on a four-hour flight, going back to a broken situation. Where she needed to find a way to heal. Knowing that a good friend that was by her side, would no longer be around. Hoping this topical remedy would settle and she could doze off, forgetting why she was on this blasted plane. 

“We are taking orders now. Can I get you anything for when we get going?”

A firm “No" escaped from her lips. Immediately, she was embarrassed for barking at the flight attendant. Giving a faint smile, she apologized. “Maybe later.”

“How about you, sir?"

Thinking for a moment, the man requested, “One bottle of water and a Scotch, if you have any.”

She glanced at him while he thanked the attendant, taking note of his face. A little stubble graced his cheeks and chin. The strongest jawline she had ever seen. He seemed friendly, with a smile so beautiful and warm. Sort of handsome, to be honest. At least there was eyecandy next to her. 

The abrupt sound of the speaker interrupted her observation.

“Good morning, everyone, this is your Captain speaking…”

As instructions were given and a brief weather report was featured, her breathing hitched. Trying every trick in the book to level with her brain, that this would be fine. She’d make it to D.C. safely. But it was clear, she hated this.  

And away they went… slowly moving forward, making wide turns.  If she could just blink and have already landed, she’d be set. But life didn’t work that way and she didn’t have enough superpowers or ins with the universe to make this happen.

She triple-checked the seatbelt that was around her waist. Using an excuse to look out the window, she moved her head to the left. The man was so relaxed, gazing out the window. She was envious. Maybe he knew something she didn’t. 

“Excuse me?”

The kindest pair of blue eyes met hers.

“Yes?”

Her voice was strained, but the words began to flow. “I don't normally do this. But can I hold your hand when we take off? I need something to anchor me. I'm not even sure if this medicine I just took will work. I'm just very nervous and I can’t even stay calm right now. But I need to because if I don't, I'll be a wreck.”

“You're in luck," he replied. "My hands are very available for holding.”

Surprised that he would say yes to a stranger, she nodded in gratitude, grasping his hand. She wasn't expecting his palm to be so large, delicately covering her hand. Their arms dangled over the small partition. 

With a long exhale, her eyes snapped shut.

“What's your name?”

“What?”

The man nudged her shoulder and calmly asked again. “Your name. I probably should get it before you use me as a security blanket.”

Quickly, she answered.

“Olivia.”

“Nice to meet you, Olivia. I'm Fitz.”

His voice was soothing. Low. A little seductive, but with a sense of familiarity that she appreciated. Like hearing a narrator describe nature's wonders on a documentary.

“Hi. Hi, Fitz.”

The conversation only lasted a minute, but it got her mind off the fact that the plane was starting to rise.

“Olivia.”

“Yes?”

“You got this. Keep squeezing my hand if you’re anxious. You're going to be okay.”

Sure enough, she took up on his offer. The first ascent wasn't too bad, but she didn't feel totally confident.  

"Where are you from?"

"Washington," she said, actually opening her eyes. 

"Nice. Visiting?"

"I don't know," she admitted with hesitation. "It's my first time in a few months."

"Oh, okay."

"You?"

"Going there for work."

Another speedy climb; it made her stomach drop again and she squealed, but not in the fun, "ooh, this is great" kind of reaction. Her rowmate took it in stride, giving her hand a quick squeeze.

"Olivia, you're doing great."

As his thumb gently rubbing the space between her thumb and index finger, she realized he was distracting her from the elements. Maybe he was a pediatrician, counselor, or teacher, having the experience to make someone feel more at ease. It really didn't matter what he did for a living. He made her feel safe. 

"Thank you."

The speaker turned on and the Captain announced they had reached the ideal altitude and would be cruising for several hours. 

"Are you doing alright?"

"Mmhmm," she said, beginning to feel the Dramamine kicking in. Finally.

The flight attendant returned with his drinks. 

"Thank you so much," he accepted, crossing her body with his left hand. 

Feeling another round of silly, she let go of her power grip. "I'm sorry."

"No," he said. "You're fine. If you need to grab my hand again, please do."

For the first time since she arrived at the airport, she smiled. At him. 

"What," her eyebrows lowered, thinking something had gone awry. 

"You have the most beautiful smile.” 

She wasn't expecting him to give her a compliment. Relaxing her face, she looked down. 

“Thank you.” 

"Do you need anything?"

Glancing back at him, she said, "I think I'm going to take a nap."

He winked. "Sounds good."

Unbuckling herself, legs stretching, she found a decent position to rest, and finally closing her eyes. 

Maybe the universe was working on _something_. 


	6. his kind of perfect.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "The Look" universe - future fic. A year later.

“Daddy. Daddy. Daddy!”

Teddy’s voice always woke Fitz up. It didn’t matter when or where.  Thankfully, his tone was pleasant, and not a cry for help.

Fitz rolled over, letting out a groan.  

“Buddy...”

“Are you awake?” The tug of his shoulder prompted him to open his eyes. Teddy was standing at his side, with messy brown hair and a toothy grin.

“Hi.”

“Happy Father’s Day!”  

Teddy lunged at him, giving him a tight squeeze. Fitz hugged him back, tickling him a little.

“Daddy, you’re tickling me!”

“Hey,” he reasoned, “you’re the one who woke me up. And thank you, buddy. I love you.”

Fitz placed Teddy on the bed, looking at him in awe. It was still a wonder how he was gifted with such a son. He didn’t deserve Teddy; five years into this thing called fatherhood, it could have jaded him. Teddy could have resented him with all that had come their way. But with such love and joy in his heart, he was perfect. Fitz thanked his lucky stars everyday to have this child was in his life.

“How are you this morning?”

“I’m fine,” Teddy said. “I made you a picture. It’s on your nightstand.”

As promised, Fitz found a colorful piece of paper. He immediately smiled. “You drew all of this,” he asked with wonder in his eyes.

Teddy nodded. “Yes. There’s us, here at the beach. See the water? And I drew Taffy’s at Rehoboth. And here’s our house for the week.”

“I got some muscles,” Fitz joked.

“Yeah and a _tan_.” Teddy had his father’s teasing sense of humor.

Fitz pointed at a third person. “Who’s that?”

“Livia. Duh, Daddy. Can’t you tell?”  Teddy stared at him, asking in an incredulous tone.  “She’s shorter than you, she has long black hair, not short and brown like us. You love her. She love us. She’s part of our family now. That’s what you do. You draw family members in a picture.”\

The details in which Teddy drew the three of them was amazing.  Fitz could feel a huge lump in his throat.  

“Thank you. Can I put this in my office?”

Teddy laughed. “Of course, Daddy!”

“You’re going to have to show her,” Fitz whispered to his son, after giving him a kiss.

“Okay!”

“Cool. We should go find her and make her breakfast.”

Teddy scampered away to change out of his pajamas, while Fitz prepared for his special day.  It was quiet when he emerged from the bedroom, wandering around. Coffee was brewing and the aroma of baked goods filled his nostrils. So, she had to be around somewhere.

Fitz continued his search, opening the front door. Maybe she could have taken a run. But the street was empty. Then, he turned to the patio. Olivia was curled up in a chair, nursing on her oversized cup of coffee. Facing the calmer waves of the Atlantic.  He cracked the sliding door open.

“Hey.”

Olivia turned her head. “Hi.”

“You let me sleep in.”

“I did,” she replied, sharing her sweet smile. “That’s a perk of such a holiday.” 

Fitz kissed her forehead. “Good morning.”

“Good morning. Happy Father’s Day.”

He had to kiss her again. Because she was here and he couldn’t imagine being anywhere else.

“Thank you. How are you, Early Bird?”

Olivia cupped his cheek, rubbing her thumb against his skin.  “I’m good.”

“Miss me already? How long have you been up?”

“Long enough. I have the cinnamon rolls baking.”

Fitz quickly pecked Olivia’s palm, before sitting down. “I smelled them. They already have my mouth watering.”

Olivia handed him a cup. “Good.”

Per usual, after a short conversation about nothing, they’d fall silent. Observing their surroundings or each other.

“The sunrise is amazing here.”

Fitz had been looking at her, watching the morning light to illuminate her face.  but then gazed up to the sky. “It is. It’s always different at the beach.” 

* * *

Teddy rocked in his chair, munching on the gooeyist piece of his cinnamon roll.  “Sooo good,” he sang.

Fitz smirked, nodding at Olivia.   Pulling his new beloved artwork, he passed it to her. “Liv, Teddy made this for me.”

He watched her survey Teddy’s piece. Olivia blinked several times, while placing a couple of fingers over her mouth.  

“This is so sweet. I didn’t know I was going to be in this.”

Teddy wiped his mouth. “Of course! You two always think the weirdest things.”

He rolled his eyes as Fitz and Olivia laughed.  

"You want to go to the beach soon?”

The boy’s eyes lit up, “Of course! I need to change into my swimming trunks!”

* * *

He wanted a house right on the beach. As soon as you walked outside, you were there. No lugging items down three or seven blocks.  Since Fitz knew the owner, reserving the house wasn’t an issue.  

In this neighborhood, everything was simple and cozy.  People came and went, but for good reasons.

California was different. In many ways. Too many memories of being alone or barely seeing his father at all, that he’d rather discard out of his mind.  Fitz needed to be out of town every Father’s Day or to stay busy. With Teddy, he could do that, reinvent this third Sunday of June, every year. It started with this house in Bethany Beach.  One day, he’d buy the perfect place for them. Teddy _and_ Olivia.  Whichever beach they like the best and whatever they wanted.  He was finally making roots. Building a life.

He had been daydreaming on the patio, with their gear on the floor. Olivia returned in a floppy hat and a stark white bathing suit. She was stunning.

“Beautiful lady.”

Shrugging, Olivia poked his arm. “C’mon.”

The three walked down. It was still only 10:30, so not as many people had claimed space. Plenty of room for Teddy to play, and then still close enough.

“Let me get your back.”

Fitz sat down, unbutton his shirt, so Olivia could thoroughly cover him with sunblock. When she finished, he reciprocated.  

“You’re hot. I like this kind of Fitz. Beachy Fitz.”

Olivia stood on her tiptoes, brushing her fingers on his chest, kissing his cheek, then jaw, then up to his lips.

“Miss Pope,” he lowly growled.  “You’re going to get me into trouble this morning.”

With a sly grin, she answered.

"You know it."

* * *

It was the first time Olivia had joined the Grants to Bethany Beach. She was more of an Ocean City kind of girl - the nostalgia with her family.  But Fitz wanted her to experience this, see how he and Teddy spent time on the Eastern Shore. Olivia didn’t want to impose on their vacation, but Fitz insisted that shey come down.  She decided to visit for two days.  Fitz marveled at how very content she looked, reading her book under the massive umbrella he bought up the street. 

Tipping his sunglasses back on, he sighed. Keeping an eye on Teddy, as he ran around with a few of the neighborhood kids. Saying hi to long time friends and anyone who walked by. 

Olivia didn’t need convincing to come to the water. Teddy would squeal whenever she splashed him. Taking the opportunity to surprise her with kisses whenever he could, Fitz just enjoyed the whole moment.  

A lifeguard volunteered to take their picture.  Fitz whipped out his phone. Beaming from ear to ear, with Olivia by his side, and Teddy in his arms.  It had been a while they took a beach photo.

This was the life.

* * *

“Guess what?”

“What?”

Olivia bit her lip. The twinkle in her eye immediately let him know that she was up to something.

“I made reservations at the new place.”

Confused, Fitz leaned into her. “Come again?”

“We need to freshen up so we can get to dinner in an hour.”

Fitz was shocked; he didn’t remember telling Olivia that he had been wanting to go. But since it was so new, the restaurant was booked.  “Are you kidding?”

Olivia patted his knee. “You know you deserve this, Fitz.”

Huffing, Fitz stood to tear down the umbrella.  

“Fitz. I know today is usually rough for you. But you deserve to be loved and respected and cared for.  Remember what you told me all those months ago?”  

He stopped to recollect.

Olivia stared him down, making sure her words were sticking.

“Yes.”

“Okay, so right back at you.”

Fitz could feel his heart bursting at the seams. Olivia came at the right time in his life, when he needed something good and wonderful. 

He extended his hand, lifting to Olivia to him.

“What are you thinking about, baby?”

Fitz gave her a grateful smile, while holding her tight.  “Just...I appreciate all you’ve done for me today.”

“Let’s get ready.”

As they made the short trek to the house, with an exhausted Teddy in his arms, Fitz  began to think and daydream again. Maybe he’d come back soon. To celebrate their one year anniversary and make new memories.

This was his kind of perfect.


	7. I'll wait.

Olivia couldn't stop tapping her foot. Or refrain from fidgeting or twisting the ring on her index finger. The stark lighting was hurting her swollen eyes. Her bones ached from sitting in the chair for hours. No one was here to give her answers or comfort her. But she couldn't leave. Not yet.

“Miss Pope?”

“Yes?”

She jumped from her seat, unaware she had the ample energy to propel herself to standing. Her legs were weak.  A man in scrubs had approached her. She prayed that he would finally walk out of the swinging doors.

“Hi, I'm Dr. Martine. I was the lead surgeon.”

Olivia studied his face as they shook hands, looking for uneasiness. Anything less than she wanted to hear was going to break her. As her lips parted, she released a frantic cry, “Is he okay?”

“We finished surgery and were able to clean and sew together the multiple stab wounds. He will be transported to a room where he can rest.”

“Ok. When will visitors be allowed?”

“We will check his vitals and see how the wounds are, but realistically, three hours so he can get adjusted. He went through a lot of trauma, Miss Pope.”

Olivia wrung her hands repeatedly. “Ok.”

“He will be fine,” the doctor smiled. “You did the right thing. You brought him here in the nick of time. It’s a wonder that he didn’t lose more blood than he did.”

The visuals made her shudder, and hug herself.

“If there any other updates, we will inform you.”

“Thank you.”  

Dr. Martine was leaving and that didn’t satisfy Olivia at all. She began to follow him.

“When did you say that I can see him?”

“8am.”

Olivia peered at the clock that was hanging. It was only 5:12am.

“I'll wait.”

There was determination in her voice that caught the doctor off-guard. He lifted his hands.

“You probably shouldn't. You should get rest as well. It's been a very hectic evening for you two. I understand how events like this can cause shock. I know he would want you to rest.”

Olivia’s eyes furrowed. There was no way she was going to leave without seeing him.  Waiting was a part of her life.  She had to wait to be with him. Life was throwing them so many curveballs. Previous lovers they were attached to when they met. Then, being patient for her parents to accept their relationship. The timing was never right. But they stuck it out. She couldn’t drop her promise now.

Her words caught in her throat. “I’m not going home. I can't go back by myself. I’m not leaving him.”

Dr. Martine somberly nodded, reaching to pat her shoulder. “I understand. Olivia, I can take you to a lounge that is on the same floor as him. Would you like that?” I would like you to try to eat something before you see him. One of the nurses will escort you when it's time.”

“Thank you for saving him.”

“No, you brought him here. You saved him.”

Olivia breathed deeply, exhaling the overwhelming anxiety, recalling of any meditation techniques she learned over the years.

Knowing that he was alive was a miracle. Then, she finally thought about what happened.  They were living in a “safe” neighborhood in town. They had walked around late at night.  It was a date night, seeing one of their favorite singers perform.  

How was she going to know that someone would be following them? The hard yank she felt when the strange pair of hands grabbed her. How would she know that he was going to sacrifice himself to protect her, only to get hurt in the process. She screamed when the masked person lunged at him, and all she heard was, “Olivia! Stay there!”

When he fell to the ground, she called for help. Her purse was gone. But her phone was in her hand and she was able to call for an ambulance.  The blood stains were a reminder of how she attemped to stop the flow and comfort him.  She couldn't leave.

Then her thoughts focused on the future. Was Dr. Martine being truthful? How much damage had been done? How he was going to recover from such a heinous act, was tearing her apart. Would there be trauma to his brain? Would he remember any parts of his life? His name? He was an active man. Would this affect him physically?

Nothing would give her peace until she saw his face. So she tried to rest her eyes for a little bit.

“Excuse me?”

Olivia slowly came back to reality. Two hours had gone by.

“Yes?”

“Are you Olivia?”

She nodded.

“My name is Susan. I'm going to take you to see your husband.”

Worry flooded Olivia’s mind as she followed Susan down the hall. It was quiet.  Too quiet.

“How long have you two been married?”

“Five months.”

Susan grinned, “Congratulations. Have you been able to contact his family?”

Olivia promptly answered, “We don't have family here. It's just us. And my phone is dead, so…”

“It's alright.”

Stopping in front of a door, Susan turned to face Olivia.

“Giving you a heads up. He has some bruises on his face, from the fall, and we had to shave some his hair to tend to the wound he received. Take all the time you need.”

Olivia had an inkling that Susan would give her a better prognosis. “Is he okay though? Will he be alright? You can be honest with me.”

The nurse took Olivia’s hand, squeezing it. “Your husband is going to make a full recovery. He probably will be here a few days but he will be fine.”

Olivia closed her eyes again, quietly appreciating the good news.  After she said goodbye to Susan, and the door was closed, Olivia acquainted herself with the new surrounding.  He was motionless. The IV’s hooked to his arms. She scanned the monitor to confirm he was actually breathing or something was helping him do so.

It had been nine hours since she saw him, felt his embrace, heard his voice. It was far too long.

But she had patience.

Olivia stood at his side, observing. There was space on the bed that would hold her petite self. So, she gingerly climbed, curling herself to him. Lightly pressing her hand on his cheek, she put her ear down to his chest.

“Don't leave me.” She sobbed on his gown. “I'm so sorry.”

Even though he wasn’t able to respond, Olivia could feel relief. Just knowing she was by his side, was all she needed.

She felt something pressed on her back, which made her flinch. When she opened her eyes and lifting her head, she heard him mumble something.

“Fitz?”

He was rubbing her back.

“Hi. Why are you crying, baby?”

“Oh, Fitz,” she burst into tears. “I was so worried. I almost lost you.”

“I could have lost you,” he emphasized. “That bastard tried to hurt you. I couldn’t let him do that.”

He remembered. But she hoped the awful memory was faint.

“You lost so much blood. There was no point for you to try to be a hero.”

Fitz winced as he smiled. “As long as it wasn't your blood, it was worth it.”

“You almost died.”

“Yes.”

“Don't do it again,” she ordered.

“Okay.”

Olivia sat up to see his eyes. Still soft and beautiful, and very blue.

“Hi.”

“Hi, Livvie.”

“How do you feel?”

Fitz lifted his hand, tracing his fingers on Olivia’s face, as if he hadn’t felt her skin in years.  “To be honest, awful. Everything hurts.”

Olivia’s eyes widened, ready to jump up to find someone. “Should I get the nurse?” She was brought back by his gentle tugs on her shirt.

“Nope. I just need you."

Of course, she didn't like that answer. He was in pain. She was the reason why, which frustrated her greatly. If there anything she could do to erase the last 12 hours, she would.

"Livvie," he whispered. "I know what you're thinking. Don't worry. I'm here. We're going to get through this. C'mere."

Following his instructions, Olivia moved closer. Fitz slowly leaned forward, giving her a kiss that she knew she wanted but wasn't going to ask for. It steadied her, bringing back to him.

It was worth the hours of waiting.


	8. There Is This Girl Who Stole My Heart...

_A girl’s first true love is her father._

_—Marisol Santiago_

"Hi, Daddy! Daddy!"

Fitz could always depend on hearing the sweetest voice when he opened the side door. After a long day at the office, nothing felt better than coming home to this daily routine. The miniature version of himself and his wife came running down the hall, with small and quick footsteps.

"Hello, Miss Addi!"

Addi - one of many nicknames for Addison Claire - raised her arms, squealing at the sight of her tall father.

Scooping her into his arms, Fitz began to shower kisses on her chubby cheeks and button nose. This little girl was his world now. He couldn't imagine life without her. The last two and a half years had been nothing but perfect. Even with his promotion and Olivia's job as a marketing guru, there was opposition about having a child. But they would always find time for each other and Addison. Fitz didn't care about the naysayers; he would shout from the mountain tops about how he loved his baby girl.

"Hello, lovey!"

"How are you," Addi giggled, squeezing Fitz's neck.

Exaggerating his reactions, with a big gasp, he answered, "I'm great now! I'm back home to see you and Mommy. What did you do today, beautiful?"

Hazel-eyed Addison gave her signature grin, proudly sharing her agenda: "I play with my dollies, read books, and I took a nap. Because Mommy said so."

"Good girl," he sprinkled more kisses on the little girl's cheek.

Fitz walked to the kitchen, setting Addison on the island counter, so he could wash his hands. He asked a few more questions, entertaining her, as he cleaned up.

"Do you want a snack?"

"Mmhmm," she replied while her legs swung back and forth, trying to decide. Fitz gave her the options of apple slices, peanut butter crackers, or some of his favorite gooey brownies.

"Can I have a cracker and a brownie?"

"One cracker and half of a brownie."

Addison's face crumpled, but instead of bursting into tears or whining because of the compromise, she sighed. "Okaaaayyy."

Fitz chuckled to himself, always getting a kick out of Addison's responses. Now that she was older, he could capture her sense of humor and personality. Very much like Livvie's. He had to say "no" sometimes. That wasn't easy, but it was a learning experience for all of them.

"Daddy, down, please."

Fitz lowered Addison to the floor. Then, he felt a tug on his back pocket.

"Yes, baby?"

"When you get relaxed," Addison asked with the biggest doe eyes on the planet, "Do you want to play with me? Tea party?"

"Of course."

Addison squealed, clapping her hands while hopping. "Yay! Yay! I get ready."

"I'm going to change my clothes so I look nice for you."

But Addison had already disappeared into her room; all she heard was "Yes" and that's all that mattered.

Fitz smiled to himself. The simplest of things would excite Addison. Piggy-back rides, sharing a slice of pizza, being at the pool, or cuddle times with Mommy. He didn't think partaking in a late-afternoon tea would be the thing that would make Addison's day.

But he loved it.

He went to the bedroom, changing into his favorite pair of jeans and got rid of his tie. When he reached Addison's room, he took a moment to observe.

A full set of play china with the utensils perfectly set on the table he and Olivia found a year ago. Two dolls in one chair, while two seats were vacant. Maybe Olivia had demonstrated how to set a table because it looked perfect. The saucers and cups in their place, with cloth napkins, and light blue utensils. Quite a contrast to the lemon yellow walls - a long weekend's project for Fitz. Addison was allowed to pick the colors herself once she got potty-trained.

Then, he noticed Addison, loudly humming while brushing her hair and smoothing the stray ringlets away from her face, probably mimicking her mother. She also changed outfits. Now wearing a blue gingham dress, with black leggings, and colorful socks. Fitz had no clue she could switch clothes so quickly. Probably Liv - always giving Addi the skills to learn ahead of the curve.

Fitz knocked on the door softly, so he wouldn't startle her. Seeing her bright eyes melted his heart.

"Hi! Come in, Daddy."

Stepping into her room, Fitz smiled. "Where should I sit?"

Addison pointed to the biggest seat. "Right there, Daddy. Okay?"

"Of course, baby." Fitz was ever thankful that he and Olivia bought chairs that were high enough for them, but still provided a sweet ambiance for Addison, so that it was appropriate for her.

"Daddy, tea?"

"Yes, please."

Addison bit her lip as she poured the imaginary liquid into his cup. Chubby fingers grasping the kettle, using such concentration. Fitz noticed the lines on her forehead, eyebrows knitting _—_ she was definitely his daughter.

"Thank you, Miss Grant."

"You're welcome, Daddy."

Fitz waited for Addison to sit down before they began their tea date.

"Is your tea good?"

"Mmhmm," Addison slurped. Then, she covered my mouth. "Oops!"

"What?"

Fitz watched her wince.

"I shouldn't be so loud."

"It's your tea party, Miss Addi," he assured. "You can be as loud or quiet as you want."

Addison's eyes widened; "Are you sure?"

Fitz chuckled. "Yes, ma'am."

This period of learning and teaching fascinated Fitz. It was all new. Reading books and blog content could only go so far when raising a child. But as he watched Addi grow, he knew it would be alright to loosen the reigns.

Addison took a bite of her brownie. "Want some?"

"Sure."

Addison passed her plate to Fitz. He pretended to eat, but she groaned in dissent.

"No! You need to eat some."

"But it's your brownie."

"I want to share with you." Addison rose, crossing to Fitz. Being the boss that she was born to be, she lifted her snack to his lips.

"Please eat. I don't want to you to starve."

Fitz's eyebrows raised, highly amused, but to pacify his daughter, nibbled on the brownie.

"Thank you."

Changing her authoritative tone to extra sweet, Addison smiled. "You welcome. How was work?"

"Busy but good."

Fitz admired her kind spirit. He didn't remember training her to ask how someone's day was. Maybe she overheard them talk about work. Addison was a sponge, ready to "Cheers!"

"Where's Mommy?"

Addison tapped her chin, then twirled her index finger around, dramatically pointing in the air. "She's on the phone in her office. I've been good."

"That's great."

Fitz and Addison continued to play, making sure her dollies, Tatiana and Beauty, were taken care of. He loved to make her laugh - sticking out his tongue, responding in silly voices. Even singing to her some of their favorite songs. He would do anything for his girl. Whatever she needed, as long as it wasn't something that could hurt or disrespect, he'd get it for her in a minute.

"I love you."

Addison exclaimed, "I love you too! You're awesome, Daddy!"

How could time be flying by? Her vocabulary was growing, she was doing more everyday. Soon, she would be reciting poems, making her own lunches, and going off to school. Fitz knew she was going to be an amazing young lady, but he was okay with this stage. Only a few feet tall, with lots of curly hair, with eyes so expressive, he could tell how she felt immediately. That was her girl. His baby. She was the apple of his eye and she loved him. His Addiclaire.

 


	9. Love Allows For Forgiveness

The nerves were prohibiting Olivia from enjoying the meal she ordered. It had been years since she sat in this café, among strangers, instead of buddies she grew up with. So much time had passed when she was a student at the college only a few miles up the road.

A small town girl with big city aspirations, Olivia bided her time in college. It was comfortable staying in town, but she knew there was more. Olivia allowed the pressure of gaining access to a brand new world to disregard what she had at home.

After searching the internet, she received a lucrative scholarship to transfer to Princeton. While she visited, she met people who only wanted to know her for what she could do for them. It was changing how she responded to those who loved her. As strong as she appeared to be, she was intimidated by others who were making her life miserable.

Her friends didn't approve of her choices. Others were jealous of her and spread reputation-crushing rumors. It was too much and she left, like a thief in the night. If they couldn't be happy for her, she had to cut them off. All of them.

Life had taken a toll on her; the relationship she craved, fell apart. Opportunities weren't at their best and the dog-eat-dog world of New York City took her down. Years of being at rock bottom emotionally finally made her wake up and decide to change her ways. After much thought and months of soul searching, she returned to Santa Barbara. The move was frustrating, nearly impossible. She felt like a failure because she was so sure that everything was going to work out..

But this was good; she was coming back a changed woman, ready to approach her past. Slowly, she reconnected with the friends who were by her side. A lot of explaining and for the most part, she received forgiveness. But there was one person she couldn't get a hold of — mostly because of the guilt that stayed with her for so long.

She was too scared to reach out. His number stayed in her phone. Maybe he had moved on, found a woman who was worthy of his love. At the time — the height of their relationship — she made the foolish choice to let him go. It was easier to leave, then to convince him to stay with her as she chased her dreams. It made sense to get as far away as possible. The hurt would fade over time. As much as she tried, the void grew deeper.

Fear controlled her thinking. The doubt in her head overshadowed what her heart was telling — trying to convince her that truth could conquer.

Olivia used her contacts to pinpoint where he frequented. Back to the place where they met fifteen years prior. This old café where they had their first date. The first time when she said "I love you".

A week into this plan and she hadn't seen him yet. For some reason, she thought that maybe it could happen. Hence, the constant shaking of her foot against the table leg and a non-existent appetite. Would he recognize her? She hadn't changed too much. Her face thinned out a little. A fashion style that matured to dark jeans, slacks, and blouses. Her ringlets now straight tresses. Then she laughed to herself — he wouldn't forget.

Each time the door opened, she lifted her eyes. Of course, no one she knew. Cursing at herself for looking a frazzled mess, she walked to the bathroom. Pull herself together. Work on using her phone and  _calling_. A text could work. Something friendly, but still distant enough to not throw him off. In case, he needed time to process and decide whether he even wanted to talk.

That all flew out the window when she returned to her assigned table.

"Olivia Pope?"

That voice, albeit deeper, still had the power to stop her in tracks, make her heart pound, and remind her of all the times they were together.

When their eyes met, she nearly cried. The love of her life had called her name. The only person she thought about when she was packing up her life to start over once again.

Fitz Grant looked the same and yet, time and good genes molded him into a gorgeous man. Observing all the details on his face, how blue his eyes were. The sweet expression on his face whenever she arrived from a trip. It was still there.

"Hi."

Struggling to form words, she echoed his greeting.

"Hi."

"It's so good to see you." His voice was pleasant. Waiting for him to either curse her out or walk away, Olivia braced herself for the worst kind of rejection. To her surprise, he stepped forward and hugged her.

The tension in her body releasing as her arms looped through and landed on his shoulders. He was so warm. The familiar scent of his cologne, how he would rock her when she was afraid. It was all coming back. Years and distance should made this feel awkward, but their embrace was comforting, as if they had only seen each other recently.

She wanted to spill out her guts and find something eloquent to say, but she wasn't able to. Her chest tightening as his lips pressed on her temple. Somehow, there was compassion. Too proud to cry, she cleared her throat, pulling away from him. She had to be logical and explain herself, and apologize for all the pain she caused. Hoping that he'd extend forgiveness too.

"What brings you to Santa Barbara?"

"I— I moved back."

Fitz's eyes widened. For a moment, he was also unable to speak. "That's great." A smile appeared as his hands dropped to his side. "I can't believe this. Of all the days to come here to get lunch and you appear. I honestly thought I lost you forever."

"I have to explain. For everything."

"I know, but I'm willing to hear you out. Where are my manners," he said as they sat down. "Are you waiting for someone? I don't want to hold you up. Maybe we could meet another time."

"Yes," she replied, staying focused on him. "I was waiting for you."


	10. Momma

It was as if her mind was anticipating for this moment. Her eyelids lifted immediately and she stared at the ceiling.  _Of course_ , they would would be loud enough to wake her on the one day she felt entitled to sleep in. It still shocked her that after seven years, her body would jolt her awake, at the faint murmurs, or motion of their feet.

"Shh, it's a surprise!'"

"No,  _YOU_  SHHHHH! You're going to ruin it."

"Maybe if I just lay here without saying a word, they'll come back later," she mumbled to herself, turning on her side, fluffing her pillow. A few more minutes. That's all she wanted.

Five seconds had passed and she heard the calls.

"Momma? Mommy? Are you awake? It's us."

Their voices were so precious, sweetly trying to get her attention — just at the wrong time.

"Mommy, we made some coffee and waffles for you. They have strawberries on top. We'll keep everything hot. If you want them."

Then, she heard Fitz whisper something.

"Darn," little Lukey whined. "Why do we have to wait, Daddy? But it's Sunday! We can't stand here forever. We have church and a whole day of sunshine."

The 3-year-old's logical concept was so adorable. But still, the door was closed, and she didn't want to bothered just yet. Olivia was believing her husband would graciously remind the two about discretion.

Although, imaging how this scene was playing out in the hallway was bringing a smile to her face.

The door slowly opened. Olivia froze, then realized it was Fitz.

"Hey."

Blindly finding her phone and checking the time - 9:15 - Olivia calculated that she had 35 minutes to rest, before getting ready for church. Maybe Fitz has taken the lead on that one. .

"Mmm, hi."

Fitz sealed his greeting with a kiss on her forehead.

"Happy Mother's Day, beautiful."

"Thank you."

"I know you've been awake. Sorry about the twins. I tried to warn them. They couldn't resist."

Olivia snorted, "They do love me. Fitz, you always call them that. They are more than three years apart."

Fitz reclaimed his side of the bed, but didn't lie down. "They sure act like it. He mimics everything she does. The best of friends. Damn, I wish I had that growing up."

"I know. But now they do, so that's good."

"By the way," he interjected calmly, "All you have to do is get ready. I got them dressed, Livvie."

Olivia sat up. "What?"

Trying to keep a straight face, Fitz semi-bit his lip while beginning to rub her back. "I handed it."

She cocked her head to the side, reviewing her husband's expression. "Is that so?"

"Yup."

The little things he did. God, she was impressed.

"Is it bad that I'm turned on," she admitted, scooting closer to him.

"Hmmm, nope." Fitz's cheeks rose, very accepting of Olivia's words.

"You don't have to do anything else today."

Fitz shook his head. "It's only the start of a good day for you, Olivia Grant."

"We can't play now, but you should meet me here tonight."

Olivia pecked Fitz's lips; getting frisky right before church didn't seem like a wise idea, so she promised Fitz she'd thank him later.

The golden hour of nothingness was coming to a close. Olivia quickly showered and changed into a cream sleeveless dress. In that amount of time, Fitz completed his morning routine. He was waiting for her.

"Pretty lady, want to come down for breakfast? Addi cut the strawberries and Lukey buttered the waffles. He also turned the coffee machine on."

"I'll have a little bit."

Before Olivia could reach for the door, Fitz pulled her to his chest; kissing her cheek. He whispered, "I know how much you don't care for this. But you do so much for us — I want to make sure you know that and appreciate it."

She nodded. "Well, thank you. I think I shall."

* * *

"She's coming!"

Olivia slowly entered the kitchen. Flowers on the table, with a card on her seat.

"Happy Mother's Day!" Addison and Lucas screamed, beaming. Finally, she arrived. She walked to them, giving them kisses and hugs.

"Thank you, my babies. You've made my day. And look how handsome and gorgeous you both look."

Lukey giggled while Addison declared, "Daddy helped us. He remembered what you do, Mom. You should be proud."

"I am," she turned to wink at Fitz. An hilarious conversation.

Fitz chuckled, "Whatever."

* * *

Traditions were important to Olivia. All of the things she didn't get to experience as a child, she wanted to try to impart in Addison and Lucas. Going to church was one of those things. Her goal was to attend every Sunday, but that did not always happen with extra long work hours on Saturdays, or incredible meltdowns prior to leaving the house. But they made it on time, and found a good row to sit in. The service was lovely, but not as crowded as usual. The pastor's sermon was timely and relatable, and he asked for all the mothers to stand, so their loved ones could share flowers. The kids powerwalked to the front so they could bless Olivia with their gift. It didn't seem like much, but to Olivia, make time for church and other events, sitting together as a family, meant everything.

Back at the house, Olivia had "me" time. A luxurious bath, being able to chill in the sunroom, reading, without interruptions.

Olivia wore her favorite blue cardigan, over her white tee and jeans; it was a little cool, so she didn't want to have to run in the house to get an extra layer. Since the day was going to be spent at the house, she didn't even bother to press her hair, letting the air to dry her wavy curls.

The kids had extra time to watch a movie and eat lunch in the family room, which gave Fitz the chance to surprise and spoil Olivia.

"What's up?"

Fitz was standing at the door, holding a small basket, with compartments.

"What's going on?"

"I'm here to do your nails."

Olivia narrowed her eyes at him, "No. You won't."

"Come on... let me."

She couldn't resist her handsome guy, wearing a well-loved t-shirt and jeans, wanting to pamper her. With a heavy sigh, and quick grin, she allowed him to do whatever he wanted to do.

Sitting on the ottoman, Fitz lifted Olivia's feet into his lap. "Which color," he asked, holding three shades that were in her rotation.

"The pink please."

Olivia smirked, returning to her book. Every so often, she'd take a peek. Watching Fitz carefully adorn each nail with a coat of polish, while his reading glasses were perched on the bridge of his nose.

"How did you learn to do this? Whose nails were you painting before me," she teased.

"YouTube, Pinterest. The usual suspects, baby."

* * *

Olivia didn't think of herself as motherly. When her friends gushed about adding on to their lives with babies, she would smile and mentally check out. She just didn't see it in her future to raise a family, in a healthy situation. All the signs led to less than perfect. Fear taking over, and just not having the desire. But when Addison was born, her heart began to change. There appeared to be a measure of hope that blossomed inside of her and continued to flourish. Every day, as she watched her children grow, Olivia learned more about herself, and how strong she could be. But she had to be patient and kind, not just towards them, but for herself.

Right after Lucas was born, she decided to explain to Fitz that she didn't prefer the 2nd Sunday of May. At all. No fancy brunches or dinners. Nothing special or over the top. Just let her sleep past 9 o'clock. Her friends enjoyed the lavish gifts, but that usually happened on her birthday or Christmas. After hearing what she said, Fitz gathered she didn't think she deserved to be praised for she had been doing. But she did deserve appreciation. Every year, Fitz would respect Olivia's wishes, but find more creative ways that would gain her approval.

There were more gifts for Olivia. Addison presented a 30-second ballet, set to one of her mother's favorite songs. Lucas jumping in to participate was quite a visual. Her babies just filled her with joy. If it didn't create a mess, she would be down for anything they did.

After a group nap - Fitz and the kids sleeping on the couch, while she dozed off in her chair, they prepared for a cookout. Olivia wanted to help out, but Fitz wouldn't allow it. So she resorted to chill in the hammock. Beginning to daydream about their future. Summer vacation. More accomplishments at work.

In her haze, she noticed the famous curly mop by her feet. Lucas was trying to tap her leg to get her attention.

"Hi, you."

"Hi, Mommy. May I come in?"

"Of course, baby."

Olivia reached down to help Lucas into the hammock, so she could snuggle with her baby boy. He was getting so tall. Soon, he'd be off to preschool. Another round of transitions. From not being home at all, to teleworking a few days a week, and now, maybe she would have to reconsider how her schedule would be.

"Having a good day?"

Lucas nodded enthusiastically, his curls bouncing. "Oh, yeah! Guess what?"

Olivia looked at him directly, admiring his big, emotive eyes. She didn't want to miss out on anything. "Hmm."

"I love you."

"You do?"

Another round of infectious giggles bubbled out of Lucas. "Yes! So much. You love me, right?"

Olivia hesitated, then showered him kisses all over his face. "Of course, I do! You're my favorite boy."

"What if you have more boys?"

"Hmm?"

Lucas bit his lip, just like his father. "What if you have a baby or get a dog? Will I still be your favorite?"

Olivia answered, "Yes, you're the first boy in my life. My sweet Lucas Fitzgerald. Don't forget that, my love."

"I'm glad," he curled into Olivia's arms. "I don't want to lose my spot."

* * *

Just how she wanted. Fun and still lowkey. The sun was still out after dinner. Fitz, with Addison's help, created a full spread of burgers, grilled chicken, vegetables, and fruit, and blueberry cobbler - Olivia's favorite.

While the kids were playing with their own toys in the grass, Olivia and Fitz stayed on the patio, observing and relaxing.

"I know I say this all the time, but can you believe this? How did we get to be so blessed, Fitzy?"

"God and the universe are looking out for us," he assumed, "I guess we are very special."

Olivia reached for his hand. It was comforting to stay in physical contact with each other. Even if it wasn't sexual, she preferred touch. "Thank you for everything. I couldn't do this without you."

Fitz replied, "You are the best mom. You know that? I think you're incredibly sexy when you're with them."

Raising her eyebrow, she asked, "Even on sick days? How about when I'm wearing sweats, dropping Adds off at school? Oh, wait, when I have to play the bad guy and lead the punishment talk?"

Fitz threw his head back in laughter. "Absolutely. This all comes naturally, you take care of others. You do a damn good job. I couldn't have asked for a better woman to be in my life and raise our kids. To you?"

Reluctantly, she lifted her wine glass. "Thank you, dear."

It was hard to cycle back to this conversation. What she was feeling and what she  _should be_ thinking. Not every woman had the instinct. It didn't come naturally. Thankfully, she was in a marriage where her husband didn't push motherhood on her, demand that she throw away her career when the babies were born. He willingly took the role of co-parent with gladness. Their team worked brilliantly; whenever she was weak, he rose to the challenge. If he wasn't able to fill that need, she was strong.

"What if…"

Fitz waited for her to finish her thought.

"Hmm?"

With a smile, she shook her head. "Never mind."

"Tell me."

"Mom, let me take your picture!"

Olivia winked. She was saved by the kids, once again.

"Why?"

"A memory for next year. Both of you stand up. No wine glasses in the picture. Wait, may I use your phone?"

Addison had so much energy, but sometimes she would forget about asking.

"Yes."

Olivia stood next to Fitz, but he insisted that she stand in front of him. Being so close, just reminded her of all they've been through, and still coming out on top.

"Now say cheese!"

Addison handed the phone back to her mother. Olivia reviewed the shots.

"Now, that's a good picture, Addiclaire."

"Thank you," the little miss responded, flipping her longer curls behind her shoulder, very confidently.

"Speaking of pictures," Fitz added, kissing Olivia's cheek once again, "Lukey, get the box!"

Olivia watched the little one retrieve a burgundy box, with handles.

"What's this, honey?"

Lucas blushed, "For you, Mommy."

Slowly opening the top, she found a large photo album. Page after page, full of memories. Addison and Lucas' birth pictures. Beach trips. School portraits. Family shots during the holidays. The kids holding hands. Special crafts they had made over the years. With a few blank pages in the back.

"How did you find all of this?"

Addison and Lucas immediately pointed to their father. Fitz scoffed. Olivia gestured for him to lean down, so she could give him a kiss.

"We can put the picture of you and Daddy in here too, if you want," Addison mentioned, leaning her head on Olivia's shoulder.

Tears forming, Olivia smiled at Fitz, then softly answered, squeezing Addi and Lukey, who was on her side, tightly. "This is beautiful, thanks, guys."


	11. barista buddies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prompt was from Tumblr: "We're both baristas and sometimes I have trouble reaching for things and I show up to work one day to find a personalized stool with hearts and my name on it i hATE YOU but also thanks"

"Crap."

Olivia tossed an empty carton of almond milk in the recycling bin. The morning rush at the coffee shop depleted their current supply, as well as the new seasonable syrups. Unfortunately, when things were moving at a crazy pace, it wasn't always easy to replenish and standing on her toes would not solve the problem. Pondering which doofus kept all the extra containers in the upper cabinet — a full seven inches higher than what her fingers could reach. It happened every time during her shift. Her gene pool was failing her and of course, heels weren't an option.

As much as she didn't want to bother anyone, like clockwork, she would ask one of the other baristas, "Can someone get—?"

Before she could finish, an long arm reached above her head, quickly setting down two cartons and a huge bottle she had requested.

"Thanks," she mumbled, rushing off to complete the orders.

The tall one always came to the rescue.

* * *

It was her turn to open the store. It was her least favorite day of the month, but that's what she had to do as a team member. Besides, once her shift was done at 11:30, she could sleep for the next 36 hours if she wanted to. Olivia put on her glasses when she noticed something unusual.

A stool.

With hearts.

And in a sloppy cursive font, her name.

She thought it was a practical joke; the crew always found her dilemma amusing, to which she would respond with two middle fingers. It was a distraction and a reminder, so moving it out of sight was the best option.

* * *

When everyone began their shifts, she casually asked, "Did you do this?"

Every answer was the same. "Nope."

The first rush arrived. Pacing back and forth, cranking the espresso machines, adding flavors and milk. Giving each drink a special touch. She was on her game. An hour later, she needed more lemonade mix. Olivia turned to the back counter and realized they were out. Not wanting to make a scene, she left to get the stool, pushing it against the wall. It was tall enough so she could get anything she needed.

What an improvement.

On her fourth try with the stool, she heard a familar voice.

"Good work, Pope."

Olivia stepped down, narrowing her eyes at Fitz, standing a few feet away, arms crossed, with a generous smirk on his face. Of course, they always worked together and he was the one person she hadn't asked. Quite a constant at the bar. At least, that's all she noticed, other than his beautiful eyes and physique.

"Was it you?"

He grinned, taking the container, pouring the liquid into a tall plastic cup. "Yeah."

"Is that so?"

"Mmhmm. You needed it, so I got it. Who else is going to help if I'm not here?"

Staring the espresso machine, Olivia smiled to herself, then locked eyes with him.

"Touché. Thank you."


End file.
